


somewhere only we know

by Lexie



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-28
Updated: 2010-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-13 10:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexie/pseuds/Lexie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt finds out firsthand about a Warblers tradition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	somewhere only we know

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 2x08 and slight spoiler for 2x09, the sectionals episode.

" _What?_ " says Kurt. He really does have amazing vocal control; his voice cracks like a whip and it echoes around the pool.

"It's Warbler tradition," Blaine explains, to appreciative laughter from the rest of the guys. "You get awarded your first solo, you go for a swim."

"I already sang a solo," Kurt says, staring at all of them. "All of you sing solos all the time; Mr. Clifton actually mixes things up and shares the wealth."

Jamie shakes his head. "This is your first _official_ solo with us, Kurt. You're doing it at the winter concert, in public."

"Jacket," says Wes, holding out his hands with a grin. A couple of the guys whoop cheerfully.

There's a half a second where Blaine is not sure that non-warning was the route to take; Kurt stands there, staring at them all, clearly uncertain. He's so used to getting thrown around by groups of guys. Blaine _should_ have taken him aside and told him that this was coming and not to worry about it -- but he hadn't thought Kurt would want to be coddled; he has as much as told Blaine that, as much as he likes to stand out, one of the nicest things about being at Dalton is the fact that he can be treated like everybody else.

 

Yeah, that's stupid. Blaine definitely should have warned him.

Just as Blaine reaches that decision and opens his mouth -- Kurt starts shrugging out of his jacket. Acid-tongued but calm under it (like he's being sarcastic more for show than anything), Kurt says, "Am I allowed to toe off my shoes, or is it _also_ tradition to soak Salvatore Ferragamo loafers in corrosive pool-cleaning chemicals?"

A couple of the guys chuckle and Blaine sees the set of Kurt's shoulders -- now all the more visible in his white button-up shirt, as he hands his perfectly-pressed uniform jacket to Wes -- relax a little bit more. Wes looks to Blaine for a ruling on the question.

Blaine clears his throat and says solemnly, "I'll allow it."

Ten seconds later, Kurt shoves his shoes against Blaine's chest and instructs him to guard them with his life.

Kurt takes being tossed into the pool with more head-raised-high ridiculous dignity than anyone Blaine has ever seen.

* * *

"You were a really good sport," says Blaine, sitting beside Kurt in the bleachers. "A couple of guys haven't been so cool about it, in the past." He smiles, so Kurt knows it worked out okay and they didn't throw anybody into the pool against their will or anything. He thinks it still helps Kurt to get a reminder, once in a while, that this isn't his old school.

"It was infinitely more pleasant than being tossed into a dumpster," Kurt says wryly. He's wrapped in the biggest, fluffiest towel Blaine had been able to get his hands on this afternoon; David had laughed when he had seen it, and shot Blaine a total _you are such a sucker, dude_ look.

Kurt lifts one hand. "Water." He holds up his other hand. "Coffee grounds and rendered pork fat." He pretends to weigh the two, then lifts the water hand much higher than the dumpster hand.

Blaine gives a quiet breath of a laugh. They're sitting close enough together that he barely needs to shift his weight in order to press his shoulder against Kurt's. It's a gesture of silent solidarity, to say that he knows that Kurt is joking about it but it sucks that he ever had to learn what landing on day-old hot dogs feels like. He glances at Kurt and finds that the corners of Kurt's mouth have lifted and that he is staring at his damp socks. So basically, Kurt is smiling (very faintly) at his feet.

Blaine scrunches up his face in pretend-thought. "I don't know," he says. "I mean, you _are_ missing out on your chance to learn to swim through rendered pork fat." Their shoulders are still touching, so Blaine feels Kurt's shudder (and he laughs). They've been sitting here long enough that Kurt is actually mostly dry, as far as Blaine can tell; they're just both pretending that he's still too wet to go back out into the late-November snow flurries.

"I don't exactly have a problem with missing that opportunity," says Kurt.

The entire pool is quiet, their voices echoing off the walls. The lights are dimmed for the night and they're mostly watching the water faintly ripple.

Blaine lightly elbows him, after several seconds of comfortable silence. "You know, this is the fastest anyone has ever earned the pool toss."

That gets Kurt's attention; he shoots Blaine a sidelong glance. "Really?" he asks, as he slicks his damp hair back with one hand.

"Yep. I went out for the Warblers twice and then sang back-up for six months before I got my first performance solo," Blaine says. "It took you three weeks."

Kurt's smile curves, quiet and proud and a little -- rightfully, Blaine thinks -- smug. "Two and a half," he corrects.

"Two and a half," Blaine allows, smiling crookedly. Now they're smiling at each other. They make a seriously ridiculous pair. Blaine's roommates tell him that every day, when they also tell him that they're the two most obvious human beings on the planet and he needs to go for it already. It involves a lot of mockery. But pursuing something wouldn't feel right; not when Kurt just got here and is still settling in, and after all of the traumatic stuff that he's still dealing with (the stuff that landed him here in the first place), and considering that Blaine is pretty sure he's the first out gay kid Kurt has ever met.

It just doesn't feel right; not yet. The timing is off.

Which is hard to remember sometimes, when Kurt sits there and looks at Blaine the way he's looking at him now. Their faces are very close together.

Blaine says, "Can I ask you something?" and when Kurt raises his eyebrows and nods, he asks: "Do you wish your solo was going to be at Sectionals?"

Kurt is quiet for so long that Blaine goes through a stage of being uncertain of he heard the question, then knowing that he _had_ to have heard the question, based on how awkward his silence is. Finally, he says, "No. I'm glad it's not." He glances at Blaine quickly, like he's expecting to see disapproval or something; like he thinks he's going to have to defend having mixed feelings about singing against his friends. "It's going to be hard enough competing with Mercedes and Tina and everyone--" he shakes his head, "it would be that much harder, leading against them."

Blaine nods immediately, trying to pack as much understanding into one head bob as he can, and Kurt's face lightens. "Sorry," says Blaine, self-deprecating. "Weird question, I know."

Kurt snorts softly. "What would you have done if I'd said yes? Offered to give up your solo?"

"I would have taken it to Mr. Clifton to see what he thought," Blaine answers honestly, and the stunned expression on Kurt's face stops him short for a second before he remembers how Kurt had to kick and scratch and claw for even a _chance_ at a solo at McKinley. "We're all about what's best for the group; you're one of our strongest voices, and I think 'Somewhere Only We Know' is going to sound amazing," Blaine says, firm. "So if Mr. Clifton thought we could pull it together in time for Sectionals and you wanted to do it, I'd be all for switching out 'Hey, Soul Sister.' "

"What's best for the group," Kurt says, dubious (but his face has pinked up a little with the praise). "Not what's best for me?" He's giving Blaine the side-eye, an eyebrow up. Blaine realizes, belatedly, that Kurt didn't just flush because Blaine complimented his singing voice. He's perceptive; he's got an idea of what's going on here.

"Well," says Blaine, and he coughs, and then he laughs and ducks his head. "I mean-- that, too. Bonus."

It's a matter of timing, Blaine thinks, as Kurt smiles and they assiduously avoid eye contact.

After Sectionals.


End file.
